


Teeth Marks

by airebellah



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Consensual Underage Sex, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, First Kiss, First Time, Innocence, Intoxication, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Premature Ejaculation, Rough Sex, Tony is Peter's biological dad in this, Underage Drinking, Virginity Kink, aaaaaaand they fuck, don't read if you don't like please, it's just incest kink guys, like a lot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-07-27 16:21:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16222817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/airebellah/pseuds/airebellah
Summary: Tony starts off by showing his son, Peter, how to kiss.Things go from there.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are 3 parts already written, with (at least) 3 more on the way. Some may be short, since these are tumblr drabbles I'm now compiling on ao3

Peter’s dad was waiting up for him when he got home, nursing a scotch as he lounged on the couch. He took one look at the teen’s face and said, “Not so great, huh?”

Peter groaned, flopping onto the couch beside him. “I don’t know what I did wrong!”

Sighing, Tony wrapped an arm around his son’s shoulders. “Run me through it, bud.”

“It was going fine!” Peter exclaimed, throwing his hands up. “We had dinner, she was laughing lots. I mean, she kept going on her phone, but that’s just how she is.” Peter chewed his lip, shooting his father a shy glance before continuing. “I walked her to her door. And I- we kissed. I mean, dad, I’ve had a crush on Liz Allen since, like - ever! But… I just didn’t feel anything.”

Tony hummed in consideration as his hand rubbed Peter’s shoulder comfortingly. “How’d you kiss her, bud?”

“What do you mean?” Peter asked as he turned to look up at his dad. “I just… did.”

Tony huffed, shaking his head as he threw back his drink and slammed the glass onto the table. “You can’t just lean down – or up, in your case, that girl is tall as fuck – and plant one on her. You’ve gotta have finesse.”

“It was my first kiss,” Peter murmured as his face heated. “And, God, she’s a senior… she’s probably been kissed by way more experienced guys!”

“More than kissed,” Tony muttered. Before Peter could protest, he was tugging on the teen’s hip until he shifted. Peter’s knees knocked against Tony’s as he faced the man fully. “Show me what you did, kid.”

“How?” Peter asked, squirming a little. “I just… pressed my lips against hers. That was it.”

Tony shook his head in disappointment as he sighed. Peter’s stomach dropped; it was not often that his father was disappointed in him.

“Like I said, it’s about finesse. Romance her first. Stroke your fingers across her cheek before cupping her jaw.” Tony demonstrated his instructions, rough fingertips dragging along Peter’s cheek before his palm pressed against the boy’s jaw. Peter leaned into the touch, just slightly; his dad’s hand was so warm and inviting.

“You’re going to lean in,” Tony whispered as he tilted toward his son. “Slowly. Build up the anticipation before -” He cut off as he gently, so gently, pressed his lips against Peter’s.

“Pull back a little,” he murmured, warm breathing fanning Peter’s face. “So she can follow if she wants.”

Peter surged forward without a second thought, lips smashing against his father’s.

“Woah, woah,” Tony grunted, pushing on Peter’s shoulders until the teen sat back. “You can’t just dive in. Let the heat build.”

“Sorry,” Peter muttered, head dropping in embarrassed. Tony ran a hand through the teen’s hair before gripping the nape of his neck.

“It’s okay, buddy. You’re doing good. Let’s try again, but this time you lead.”

Peter forced himself to look up despite his fierce blushing. He licked his lips as he stared up at his dad, taking in the man’s dark eyes and smirking lips. His hand trembled slightly as he reached out, skimming his fingers down Tony’s cheek, nails dragging through the hair at his chin, before his palm rested against his dad’s jaw. Then he leaned forward, slowly this time, to press his lips against his father’s.

Tony didn’t give him a chance to pull away; the man gripped the back of his neck and pulled him closer, until Peter was forced to straddle his dad’s thighs.

He moaned at the rough handling, lips mashing messily as he slipped his arms around Tony’s neck.

“Take it slow, sweetheart,” Tony reminded as he moved his spit-wetted lips against Peter’s cheek.

Peter forced himself to calm down even as he squirmed excitedly in his dad’s lap. His lips brushed firmly, but controlled, against Tony’s. Soon the man was parting his lips, and Peter eagerly thrusted in his tongue. He moaned at the glide of his tongue against his dad’s. His hands released their grip on the back of Tony’s shirt to instead fist in the short man’s hair.

This time his dad moaned, hands gripping Peter’s hips as he bucked up.

“Dad, shit,” Peter panted as he pulled away to catch his breath.

Tony’s kisses continued down the boy’s neck. “I love you so much, baby. You’re so perfect. What a good boy I’ve raised.”

Peter whimpered desperately at the praise, inexpertly grinding his groin against his dad’s hard stomach.

“Fuck, I want you, son,” Tony growled against his neck. “Gonna eat you fucking alive-”

“Tony?”

Both men jumped almost comically at the sound of Peter’s mom. The teen was thrown onto the couch as Tony stood, brushing a hand through his hair and down his shirt. He turned to Peter, holding his index finger against his lip to indicate silence.

Peter nodded wildly, trying to comb his own messy curls (and calm his racing heart) as his dad strode off, turning down the hallway toward the voice.

“Is Peter home?” he could hear his mom ask.

“Yeah, I guess things didn’t go so well.”

“Aww,” his mom cooed in response, making Peter’s shoulders slump in embarrassment. “Should I go-?”

“Nah,” Tony interjected. “He’s a big boy. C'mon, let’s get to bed.”

Peter wasn’t sure how long he stayed on the couch; long enough for his heart rate to drop and his partial erection flag.

As he ran his fingers over his chapped, swollen lips, all he could think about was how good it had felt, with his dad’s hands in his hair and lips on his. How right it had been to straddle Tony’s waist and rub their tongues together.

How, when he had kissed Liz, pressed his lips against her glossy, strawberry-sweet lips… he had felt absolutely nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

 Peter couldn’t help but wonder if his dad had been drunk the night of their kiss. But he knew Tony could hold his liquor, and had worked hard to seriously cut back on his drinking. He hadn’t seen his dad anywhere close to inebriation in years.

He also wondered if Tony was going to pretend nothing had happened.

Again, he was proven wrong. The following morning.

His feet dragged sleepily along the floor as he stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing a fist against his eyes. He was clad in his pink Hello Kitty pyjamas, a cheesy tourist shirt Tony had once jokingly bought him, and some serious morning breath.

His mom was sitting at the island, reading the newspaper (and he ignored a flutter of guilt as he looked at her) while his dad cooked breakfast.

“Morning, buddy,” Tony greeted with an admittedly normal-looking grin.

His mom’s head shot up from the paper. “Oh, sweetie!” she cried. “How was the big date?”

Peter groaned as he waved off her excitement, walking over to the fridge. He purposefully buried his head inside the appliance as he said, “It was okay.”

“I’m sure Liz had a great time!” Mary encouraged, blind to her son’s growing discomfort. “Any girl would be lucky to have you!”

“Hey, kid,” Tony cut in, much to the teen’s relief. “Give your old man a hand over here.”

The initial relief was doused with apprehension as Peter shuffled to the stove, where his dad was currently scrambling eggs as a row of pancakes cooked on a griddle. He looked over his shoulder, glad to see his mom had returned to her newspaper reading, as Tony’s hand wrapped around his slender wrist and tugged him over.

“Flip those, will you?” Tony instructed, handing Peter a flipper as he positioned the boy (rather unnecessarily) to stand between him and the stove. As Peter reached forward to flip the pancakes, his backside nudged against Tony’s front. Flushing, he tried to step aside, but a hand on his hip stilled his movement.

Tony reached around him to continue scrambling the eggs, as if pressing his son against the stove was a perfectly reasonable position to cook in.

“Um, they look pretty ready to me,” Peter said as he inspected the perfectly golden pancakes.

“That’s what I was thinking, baby,” Tony whispered in Peter’s ear.

Peter coughed, nudging out of his dad’s grip to grab the plate of already-cooked pancakes from the counter. He carefully avoided Tony’s heated gaze, and constantly looked over his shoulder at his mom, as he piled the fresh pancakes onto the plate.

 

The rest of the weekend passed relatively normally, if only because his mother was around near-constantly. Monday afternoon, neither of his parents were home when Peter arrived, so he set up at his desk, headphones in, as he got started on homework. He didn’t realize his dad had entered the room and sat on his bed, some time later, until the man loudly cleared his throat. Pete yanked out his headphones and turned to his dad questioningly.

“How was school today, bud?” Tony asked as he patted the bed next to him. Peter obediently sat down.

“Liz and I decided to just be friends,” he revealed with a shrug. He quickly added, “I’m okay with it. Really.”

Tony’s hand settled on his knee, giving a firm squeeze. He was so warm, skin burning right through Peter’s jeans.

“I guess that means I don’t need your help anymore,” Peter blurted out. “Y'know… with kissing and stuff.”

“‘And stuff’?” Tony repeated with a grin. “What else are you struggling with, Pete?”

“N-nothing!” the boy stammered.

Tony scratched at his chin as his other hand slid up Peter’s thigh. “I’m sure you’ll start dating someone else soon, Pete,” he reasoned. “We don’t have to stop.”

His hand settled mere centimetres from Peter’s groin, fingers digging into the sensitive flesh of the boy’s inner thigh.

“Isn’t this weird?” Peter asked, nose furrowing as he turned to look up at his dad.

“Depends. Do you think it’s weird?” Tony asked.

“I think it… should be, yeah,” he said. “But it doesn’t feel weird.”

Tony reached up with his free hand to grasp Peter’s chin with his thumb and index finger. “You’re my son. All I care about is what you feel, Pete. So, what do you want?”

Peter licked his dry lips, watching as Tony’s eyes carefully tracked the movement. “I want to kiss you again, dad,” he admitted quietly.

Tony was on him without another word, pushing Peter’s shoulders into the mattress as he threw his leg over the teen’s. His facial hair scraped against Peter’s chin and nose as they kissed, sloppy and desperate. Peter fisted his dad’s shirt, pulling the man closer to him as he carelessly stuck out his tongue and tried to force it between Tony’s lips.

“Oh, sweetheart, no,” Tony sighed as he pulled away, resting his forehead against Peter’s. “Let me show you, okay?”

Peter nodded mutely, head tilting away in embarrassment. Tony simply followed him, catching Peter’s lips in a kiss much softer than before. He guided Peter into a slow, languid kiss that had the teen huffing and curling his toes into his comforter before he finally, finally, parted his lips and brushed his tongue against Peter’s bottom lip; Peter, unaware of the signal, merely copied. His dad pulled away once more.

“Baby, you really haven’t kissed anyone, have you?” Tony asked, voice soft with wonder. “That means I want you to open up for you daddy.”

The boy hurriedly nodded his head in understanding, neck craning up to kiss his dad once more. This time, when he felt that tongue brush against his lip, he let his mouth part. Tony’s tongue pressed between Peter’s teeth to tease the tip of his tongue. It was a painful wait (quite literally; his cock was throbbing) before Tony’s tongue slid further in. Then his dad was licking into his mouth, as if mapping every taste and feel Peter’s mouth, gums, and teeth had to offer.

Peter’s eyes squeezed shut as he desperately clutched at Tony’s shoulders. Tony’s knee shifted between the teen’s legs, pressing down until Peter was forced to spread his tightly squeezed legs. Then Tony’s thigh was against his cock, and Peter bent his knees, heels pressing into the mattress so he could thrust.

“Is that all you wanted, baby boy?” Tony asked as he pulled away.

Peter whimpered, frotting desperately. “I want you to make me come, dad.”

“Fuuuck,” Tony groaned, leaning forward to clamp his teeth down on Peter’s neck. The boy cried out at the shock of pain. “I’m going to make you come, kid.”

“M-Mom’s going to be home soon,” Peter warned nervously as Tony continued to lick and bite as his neck, meanwhile his hands began to tug at Peter’s clothes. “It’s okay, baby,” he soothed. “Let daddy take care of you now.”

Peter was soon divested of his sweater and button-up shirt, too overwhelmed to realize his dad’s shirt remained on. “Fucking hell, Pete,” Tony groaned as his hands ran up Peter’s stomach and chest. “Do you think you’re ever going to grow hair, or stay baby-smooth forever?”

“D-Dad!” Peter squeaked, pushing the man’s hands away to cover himself. “You taught me how to shave!”

Tony chuckled, pressing apologetic kisses to his son’s jaw as he grabbed Peter’s wrists and firmly pressed them into the bed. “I’m teasing, sweetie. Don’t be shy; you’re perfect.”

The sensitive skin of Peter’s chest burned as Tony’s beard scratched against him as the man licked a path to Peter’s nipples. “Dad, what’re you - ohh.” Peter groaned, eyes fluttering shut as Tony’s mouth closed on his nipple and sucked. Wow, that felt…  _amazing_. Peter never knew you could suck on a guy’s nipple, or that it would feel so weirdly good. His rocking against Tony’s thigh became a little more desperate, and he longed to reach under his pants and thrust into his hand.

Tony was soon kissing up to his collarbone, up his throat, along his chin before capturing Peter’s lips. “I wonder what your cock looks like, baby,” he murmured. A hand reached down to cup Peter through his jeans. “I want to see my son’s little cock.”

Peter groaned, accidentally biting down hard on Tony’s lips as an orgasm suddenly hit him. His muscles bunched up before relaxing, head falling back against the bed as he panted.

“Pete, did you just come?” Tony asked disbelievingly. Peter’s face heated in mortification. “Fuck, baby, I can feel your come through your pants.”

The teen jolted as Tony’s hand squeezed his over-sensitive cock through his pants.

“I didn’t even touch you and you wet yourself like a little boy.”

“I-I-” Before Peter could stammer out a response, an excuse, anything, the front door slammed shut.

“Boys?” Peter’s mother called from the front entrance.

Groaning, Peter covered his burning face in his hands. When had his mother developed such horrible timing?

“I got this,” Tony sighed, pressing a kiss to the back of Peter’s fingers before standing. “You should probably hop in the shower, champ.”


	3. Chapter 3

A text from his dad in the middle of class should not send Peter’s heart beating against his chest, but – _Your mom went out of town for the_ weekend.

It just had so many possibilities attached.

“Dude,” Ned hissed as he like leaned into the aisle between their desks. “Who is it? Liz?”

“Nothing,” Peter mumbled as he pocketed his phone with a growing blush. “Uh, my dad.”

He winced internally, but of course Ned thought nothing of it; he simply shrugged, sitting back in his seat.

Peter didn’t want to overthink things, or get ahead of himself, but a weekend without his mother… it felt significant. Things could happen.

* * *

But perhaps some of his anxiety was showing through; after all, he had never been any good at hiding things from his dad. They were sitting on the couch together, strolling through movie selections, Tony’s arm draped over his shoulders. It was like nothing had even changed, yet Peter couldn’t convince his muscles to ease. And he twitched restlessly, one hand’s fingers strumming an anxious beat while the other twisted in his jeans.

“I was thinking,” Tony drawled as he pulled back his arm and stood up. “Since your mom is out of town, I thought your old man might let you have your first taste of alcohol.”

He was already walking to the kitchen, leaving Peter to consider. It wasn’t what he was expecting; truth be told, he wasn’t fervently interested in drinking. But if it was with his dad, he knew he could never have a bad time.

Tony returned, holding out a cold, amber bottle to his son. Peter knew it was considered an age-old tradition, giving your son their first beer; so he accepted the drink with a small smile. It wasn’t as bad as he was expecting. It was foamy, with a slightly bitter undertone, but overall pretty bland.

“What do you think?” Tony asked, grinning as he plopped down next to Peter with his own bottle.

“It’s, yeah, not bad,” he replied as he took another sip.

“Maybe beer’s just not your thing, bud,” Tony assuaged before taking a long draught from his. “But drink ‘er up anyway. See how you can handle your alcohol before giving you the hard stuff.”

By the time he got to the bottom of the bottle, Peter’s face was burning and the world felt slightly off-kilter. He squinted, struggling to discern the words coming from the TV.

The brush of rough calluses against his burning cheek had him jolting. Looking up, he noticed Tony suddenly stood before him. “You’re quite the lightweight, kid,” he teased with a gentle smile. “Want to try something else?”

Peter nodded, though it took concerted effort to make his neck muscles cooperate. Sitting down, Tony slung his right arm over Peter’s shoulders once more and gently tipped the boy toward his side as he handed Peter a small glass of dark liquid.

The smell hit his nose before the taste; sharp and acrid and familiar all the same. A scent he occasionally picked up from Tony’s breath, and had once tasted from his lips. Tony chuckled at Peter’s furrowed brow as he swallowed it down.

He wasn’t prepared for the burn down his throat, nor the spreading heat settling in his stomach. “How do you drink this?” he asked between coughs.

His dad merely chuckled, pulling Peter even closer until he was glued against Tony’s side. The man grasped his knees, tugging Peter’s legs across his thighs.

“Takes some getting used to,” he admitted. “Better finish it though, kid. That’s good brandy.”

Peter snuggled into Tony’s chest, scooting around until he was fully curled against the man’s front. “M'kay,” he agreed as he took another drink. It was easier to get down with every sip, especially as his head began to float and his limbs became loose and heavy.

“Pete, I was thinking…” Tony asked after some time, when Peter’s glass was empty and his face buried in the man’s neck.

He giggled as he pulled away, head tipping back so far he almost fell out of his dad’s lap altogether. “You always smell good,” he informed Tony. “Like dad.”

“Thanks, I suppose,” Tony humoured him, patting Peter’s hair before pulling the boy’s head back up. “But I thought that since you’ve experienced one ‘first’ tonight… you may enjoy another.”

“Can we kiss some more?” Peter requested with some urgency, slipping his arms around Tony’s neck as he pouted.

“How about we do more than kiss, baby?” Tony offered.

Peter chewed his lip as he struggled to process the words. Everything seemed so woozy and fast, and he couldn’t keep up. “Yeah,” he agreed at last. “More than kissing.”

He shrieked as Tony stood; the living room seemed to spin as he clung to his dad. “I got you,” Tony murmured as he gripped the boy’s back and thighs. “We’re going to my room, okay bud?”

“Mom - mom’s there,” Peter slurred.

“She’s out of town. Remember, Pete?”

Peter burst into laughter. He could feel Tony’s hands hold him tighter as his body shook. “Oh, riiight. Alcohol is funny.”

Peter shut his eyes after that; the motion of being carried was making him a tad sick. It felt like no time had even passed when he was being draped across his parents’ bed. “Dad?” he called as he struggled to open his eyes.

“Right here, bud,” was the response to his right. He heard the slide of a drawer followed by small items being rifled through. “Just grabbing what we need.”

Peter hummed as he stretched out on king-sized bed that made his double seem so small and childish. “What’s that?”

There was no reply save for the gentle press of lips against his. Peter moaned, blindly clutching at his dad’s shirt. “Finally!” he sighed.

Tony chuckled as he settled over top of Peter. “Been waiting for this, huh, kid?”

Peter blushed, peeling open his eyes to look up at Tony’s grin. “Maybe,” he admitted.

The kisses to start were slow, possibly because Peter’s responses were a tad delayed. But as he began to adapt to alcohol’s funny effects on his muscles, the kisses grew hurried and slick with saliva.

“Baby, I’ve missed this,” Tony whispered as he kissed down Peter’s neck. “Wanted you so fucking much.”

“Dad,” Peter sighed as he tilted his head, giving Tony a long expanse of skin to suck and lick. “I want you, dad, please.”

“Hush, sweetie.” Tony pushed Peter’s shirt up, exposing the boy’s stomach and chest. “We’re getting there.”

Peter groaned at the brush of his dad’s fingers over his crotch as Tony began to unbutton his jeans. As if in reaction, Tony’s hands withdrew as he sat up. “You’re not coming any time soon, okay?” he warned, beginning to pull off his shirt. The words barely flitted through Peter’s brain as he watched each new inch of his dad’s skin exposed. Tony was so unlike him; thick and broad with dark patches of hair. “No coming until I’m done with you. I’ve got special plans for tonight.”

Peter’s lips smacked together as he finally pulled his gaze from his dad’s chest to his face. Then Tony’s words finally hit him, and he whined. “But it feels so good, dad.”

I know, sweetheart,” Tony assuaged. He was tugging off his belt now, and Peter’s stomach fluttered in anticipation. “But it’s going to feel even better when I’m inside you. Now take off your pants.”

“Wha- really? We can do that?” Peter asked.

“Of course, baby.” Tony stood, pulling down his jeans as his chin jerked at Peter’s own covered legs. “I said off, Pete.”

Peter scrambled to sit up, though the motion sent his head spinning and he had to take a few deep breaths until his hands cooperated enough to follow the instruction.

Tony laid back down once they were both in nothing but their boxers. “You know, kid, one night I got up to get a glass of water and I heard little, needy moans coming from your room.”

Peter gulped at Tony’s teasing, knowing grin. “Uh, um,” he stuttered.

“I stood outside your door,” Tony confessed as he began to nibble on Peter’s ear. The boy squirmed, hands hesitantly settling on Tony’s warm sides. “Listening to my son touch himself. Heard you calling out for your dad.”

“Ugh,” Peter bemoaned as his face heated. “Dad, that’s so embarrassing.”

“No, no, no,” Tony reassured, grasping Peter’s wrists as he tried to cover his face. “Baby, it was so hot. I touched myself listening to your moans.”

Peter’s mortification immediately morphed into excitement. “You did?”

“Yes, baby, but I really need to know something.” Tony dropped one of Peter’s wrists to drag a hand down the boy’s stomach and across his hip before delving under his boxer shorts and cupping his ass. Peter gasped, back arching into the touch. “Do you finger your little hole thinking about me?”

Peter frowned, honestly answering, “I-I never really… thought of that.”

“My sweet, sweet son,” Tony sighed, pressing soft, approving kisses to Peter’s lips. “You’re so innocent, I just want to ruin you. I’m going to show you how good it feels, okay, baby?”

“What do I do?”

“Nothing, sweetheart,” Tony replied. He kissed Peter’s forehead before sitting back on his heels as he settled between the boy’s legs. “Just lie there and look pretty.”

Peter’s teeth clenched in nervous anticipation as Tony began to pull down his boxers. His cock sprung out, hard and already leaking, and he fought the urge to cover himself.

“Oh, baby boy,” Tony cooed. “Look at you. So pretty and tiny.”

“I-I’m not tiny,” Peter defended with a blush. “I looked it up, I promise!”

“Shh,” Tony murmured. “It’s okay, baby, I still love it. Now let me see your hole.”

Peter worried it would be gross, his dad looking there, though his leg muscles were too weak to disobey as Tony pushed his thighs apart. But the delighted moan his dad gave was more than worth it.

“Oh, look at you!” Tony exclaimed. “So pretty, I knew it.”

Peter watched Tony lick his finger a few seconds before he felt something wet and hard press against him. “Dad, is this okay?” he asked breathlessly.

“Of course, sweetie,” Tony murmured. He re-positioned, moving up until his face was level with Peter’s once more. The finger never lost its gentle but insistent press against him. “You trust me, bud?”

Peter nodded, and suddenly Tony’s lips were crashing down on his in a rough kiss just as the finger slipped inside him. He groaned at the intrusion, trying to pull away only for Tony’s mouth to follow. But the finger stopped moving, thankfully; it stayed there, barely nudged inside.

“Dad, dad,” he panted urgently as Tony’s kisses finally relented “It’s weird.”

“It’s going to feel so good, I promise,” Tony comforted. “I’m going to go further, but you get to tell me when to pause. Okay?”

“Okay,” Peter agreed. He chewed his lip as he felt the finger push in a little more; he tensed as it kept going, a little more – “O-okay,” he stuttered. “Wait!”

The finger stilled immediately, and Peter closed his eyes as he tried to adjust. “Relax,” Tony encouraged. “It’s better if you can relax.”

His dad was right; as he let the dizzy pull of alcohol take over, relaxing his mind and limbs, it felt a little less strange. Tony kept pressing, and pressing, until finally he said, “Look at you. What a good boy, that’s it.”

“That’s it?” Peter repeated with a frown.

Tony chuckled, pressing a kiss to his nose. “No, sweetie, we’re just getting started. But I’m all the way in.”

“Oh,” Peter said. “That’s not so bad.”

It became difficult again, when Tony introduced him to the sensation to not just one, but two fingers. And stretching – that was weird. But then it Tony instructed him to stroke himself at the same time, and soon all Peter felt was pleasure.

“I think you’re ready, sweetie.” Peter mumbled agreement shriveled into a whine as his dad’s fingers pulled out. “You’re going to get something much better,” Tony promised.

Something blunt and so much thicker than fingers was pushing against his entrance. Peter groaned, and Tony peppered his sweaty face with kisses. “Just keep stroking your cock, Pete,” Tony comforted. “Focus on that for now, baby.”

Once again, it was easier to ignore the initial discomfort as he focused on the heat building in his belly with every tug of his hand. But soon there was no discomfort at all, and Peter moaned at the feeling of being filled.

“That’s, holy crap, dad, you’re inside me,” he gasped. “I- I feel you.”

Tony chuckled, nose pressing against Peter’s ear. “Yeah, baby. Let go of your cock, now, I don’t want you to come.”

Peter reluctantly let go, hand reaching up to hold Tony’s arm in an iron grip. “Dad, oh, I didn’t think it would feel like this.”  
“Fuck,” Tony groaned. “Baby, Pete, sweetie, you’re so fucking tight and hot. I need to move, baby.”

Peter cried out at the first real thrust of his dad’s hips. He never thought it would feel so perfect, didn’t know he could feel so full and complete. It was so much better than masturbating into a tissue watching cheesy porn. His eyes started to water, overwhelmed by the sensation as Tony began to pound into him.

“Is this what it always feels like?” he panted as he craned his neck to bury his face in Tony’s shoulder.  
“No,” Tony grunted, slamming into Peter hard enough to creating a loud, slapping echo. “No, baby, you’re so much better. So good. Fuck, I can’t even last. I’m going to come in you, Pete.”

That thought almost pushed Peter over the edge; his toes curled into the duvet, hips bucking up desperately. “Oh, God, dad, yes,” he moaned. “Please, dad, can you?”

“Pete, fuck, you’re so innocent.” One of his hands twisted into Peter’s hair, forcing him to cry out as Tony yanked his head back. The tears already prickling at his eyes spilled over, running down his cheeks. “Fuck! I love you, baby.”

Peter couldn’t be sure if it was his dad’s words, or just the pounding of his cock, but his jaw slacked and throat seized as an orgasm hit him. He cried out, voice hoarse, as his come spilled between them, sticking against their chests. Soon Tony was pressing his nose into Peter’s hair as he began to shake, thrusts stilted and frantic.

“Pete!” The sound of his dad groaning his name as he orgasmed was hands-down the hottest thing Peter had ever heard, and probably ever would hear. Tony stayed inside him for a moment, catching his breath, before finally pulling out. As he began to sit up, Peter threw his arms around Tony’s shoulders to keep him close.

“It’s okay, sweetie, just taking off the condom,” Tony murmured. He was back in a second, tugging the blanket out from under Peter before draping it over them. “Time for bed, Petie.”

Peter hummed in contentment as Tony’s large arms wrapped around him. He snuggled into his dad’s chest with a sated smile, too happy to feel guilty as he secretly wished for his mom to never come home.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Would you write another part to the starker incest where tony cums in Peter without the condom? Or one where Peter sucks his cock, or a combo of the 2!

Peter was always excited when his dad slipped into his room during the night, but he was slightly confused to see Tony clutching an armful of pillows this time.

“Dad, what’s that?” he asked as he rubbed the fatigue from his eyes.

“I want to try something new tonight,” Tony explained as he dropped the pillows onto the bed. “Put these under your hips, baby.”

Bracing his heels on the mattress, Peter lifted his hips and tucked the pillows underneath before dropping back down. He frowned as Tony settled onto the bed, pushing Peter’s knees apart and crawling between them.

“How are we gonna do this, dad?” Peter asked as he sat up onto his elbows. 

“Daddy’s going to fuck you like usual, sweetheart,” Tony explained patiently as he stretched out, forearms resting along Peter’s torso as Tony’s head hovered above his. He swooped down for a sweet, unhurried kiss before pulling away. “This time I don’t want to use a condom, baby. I’m going to fill you with my come until I get my baby boy pregnant.”

As Tony started to rub Peter’s flat stomach, the boy nervously said, “But d-dad, I’m a  _ boy _ _ , _ I can’t get pregnant.”

Tony sighed and pressed a kiss to the boy’s forehead. “I know, baby. It’s just pretend.”

“Oh.” Peter turned his head away, flushing with embarrassment. He was so stupid sometimes.

But his embarrassment was soon forgotten as his dad’s cock was pressing inside his hole. It felt warmer than usual, without the latex covering it. Just the thought of his dad’s cock inside him, with nothing between them, had Peter moaning. He immediately wrapped his legs around Tony’s back. A few thrusts later, and he was gasping, “Dad, dad -- crap, dad, it’s so  _ good _ like this.”

“Fuck, baby, you’re so fucking  _ hot _ _ ,”  _ Tony grunted into his son’s ear. “I’m never wearing a condom again, sweetie, this is too good.”

Peter nodded furiously in agreement as he squeezed his legs even tighter. “What’s it gonna feel like, dad?” he asked. “When you c-come?”

“So good,” Tony moaned. “So fucking good, baby boy, I’m going to fill you up with my come.”

Tony rested his forehead on Peter’s shoulder so he could look down at the boy’s stomach. He began to stroke Peter’s belly, with gentle caresses so juxtaposed with the harsh snap of his hips. “Going to fill my son with my babies,” he murmured.

Peter had never thought of having kids, but for some reason, the thought of his belly expanding with Tony’s baby made his cock throb. “Ready, son?” Tony asked.

Peter nodded fervently, ankles crossing behind Tony’s back as he pulled his dad in even closer. He never realized how much a thin condom could conceal; he could feel every pulse of Tony’s cock inside him, felt that burst of warmth suddenly flooding his insides.

“Yes, yes, feels so good,” Peter moaned. Tony’s hips had stilled, so the boy furiously tried to rock himself back and forth, getting off to the thought of the come trapped inside him.

“Love this little cock,” Tony murmured, forehead resting on Peter’s shoulder as he looked down between them. His movements were lazy as he jerked his son off, but it was more than enough for Peter, who was coming almost immediately.

Tony tried to pull out gingerly as possible, yet some of his come came spurting out onto the stacked pillows. “Better get you a plug.”

Peter wasn’t how long his dad expected him to lie with the pillows beneath his hips, but he didn’t really mind as Tony curled up beside him. “Dad, can we never use a condom again?” Peter asked, voice heavy with sleep.

“Of course, kid,” Tony replied, kissing the boy’s temple. “Not like I’m fucking anyone else.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: Can I get protective dad Tony walking in on Peter making out with sonw guy and getting jealous and kicking the guy out and then fucking Pete to next thursday?

Tony wasn’t jealous when Peter asked to have a friend over after school. In fact, he didn’t really consider it at all; Peter had had friends over before, of course -- not often, but with some regularity. And Tony hadn’t expecting the new dynamic to their relationship to change anything, other than the fact that, well, sometimes he had his dick up his own son’s ass.

That’s what he had thought, at least. So when he received a text at work from Peter which read,  _ Hey, can Johnny come over after school? _ , he thought nothing of agreeing.

Peter’s mother was a bit obtuse, to say the least. But hey, it usually worked in their favour. Thus, around the time Peter had turned fourteen, she instituted a strict no-girls-in-the-bedroom rule. Obtuse because, well, she didn’t think to do the same for  _ boys _ _. _

Perhaps if she had thought it through -- if she really  _ knew _ her son, that is -- this whole situation would have been avoided.

As it were, Tony swung open Peter’s bedroom door that afternoon (without knocking, because it was _his_ house, after all) to find some blonde boy _mauling_ his son, holding onto Peter’s slender shoulders with his grubby paws, mouth sucking Peter’s lips into a revolting, wet kiss.

“The hell do you think you’re doing?” Tony yelled, lunging forward to yank the boy off his son. He easily dodged the kid’s defensive swing, though the kid had the decency to look shamed when he saw who it was.

“Uh, Mr. Stark, I-” he stammered in horror.

Peter, frankly, wasn’t much better. “Dad!” he cried at first, before openly wiping his mouth of saliva. “I, we were, uh…”

“Get. Out,” Tony demanded through clenched teeth.

His eyes didn’t leave Peter’s the entire time Johnny sped around the room, gathering up books and scattered paperwork, pausing at the doorway, and finally fleeing the house.

Tony waited until he heard the front door slam before stalking toward Peter, who barely mustered the courage to look up at him. “Please, don’t be mad!” was all he managed before Tony’s lips were covering his. The man’s stomach turned at the cool tingle of mint coating his son’s mouth, knowing it must have been that boy’s gum; Peter preferred sweet, fruity candies.

“Dad!” Peter gasped, turning his head to the side. Tony refused to relent, taking the opportunity to viciously bite at the boy’s neck. “It didn’t,  _ ah _ _! _ D-didn’t mean anything.”

“Quiet,” Tony demanded as he ripped down Peter’s pants and boxers, not bothering with the button or fly. Flipping the boy onto his stomach, he tore at his own pants. The way Peter’s hips wantonly canted into the air was gratifying, but not nearly enough to temper Tony’s burning jealousy. “You don’t get to talk.”

“O-okay,” Peter agreed, voice quavering.

He used the lube, now stashed in the boy’s nightstand, to hastily stretch Peter’s hole. Peter was able to remain quiet (save for a few bitten-off whimpers), up until Tony’s cock nudged inside. Then he let out a low, ragged moan and tried to rock back.

Scowling, Tony grasped Peter’s slender hip in one hand and _pushed_ down, forcing the boy into the mattress. He refused to let Peter have a modicum of control tonight; he _needed_ to show the boy who was boss. Who he belonged to.

His thrusts were harsh and uncaring, drawing out reedy whines as his hips snapped against Peter’s. The pace he set was hard enough to make Peter’s bedframe bang against the wall, and the man had not the wherewithal to consider Peter’s mother possibly coming home and overhearing them. 

“Dad, dad,” was the boy’s warning cry before he devolved into a shaking, sobbing mess. Tony could barely hear him as Peter bunched up the sheet and pressed his face into the bundle of Egyptian cotton, babbling, “‘M sorry, please, dad, it didn’t mean anything.”

But Tony’s need was unplacatable this night, feet firmly planted into the carpeted floor as his brutal pace did not diminish in the least, unrelenting until he could be satisfied in knowing Peter would be left limping the next day. He released his son’s hips to grasp at his shoulders, pulling Peter’s body back to meet every slam.

“You’re mine.” As he stretched his torso along the boy’s sweat-slick back, he growled into the boy’s ear. “No one gets to touch you.”

“I-I know,” Peter agreed, voice wobbly and rasping. “Dad, I need to --  _ unh _ _ , _ come, please, can I?”

Tony toyed with the idea of saying  _ no _ _ \--  _ fucking the boy into complete incoherency, until he could be sure no one would even dare lay their hands on his son again. But Peter was already crying, voice cracking so beautifully with every word as he panted for breath, and the man let his thrusts begin to gradually slow.

“You can let go, sweetie,” he permitted, tone gently encouraging as he stroked a hand through his son’s curls.

Peter’s back arched, pressing his hips back into Tony’s groin as he let go. Tony came soon after, knowing Peter had already been pushed to his limits.

“It’s okay, I’m not mad anymore,” he soothed as he wrapped a sniffling Peter into his arms moments later.

“I didn’t ask him to kiss me,  _ I swear _ _ ,” _ Peter empathically explained. “And I didn’t even like it, your kisses are so much better, dad.”

Tony chuckled as he stroked Peter’s back. It was no surprise he could out-perform a sweaty, inexperienced, teenage boy. But a part of him was satisfied to hear it, nonetheless.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Request from anon: Bio dad Tony accidentally walking in on Peter getting off to shit shirt or another clothing item? maybe some dirty smut?

After the _incident_ with the boy in Peter’s room, Tony liked to randomly check in on his son unannounced if he saw Peter’s bedroom door shut. Not because he didn’t trust his son not to fool around with anyone else (and what an odd thought _that_ was), but because… well. It was already such a fucked up situation, did he really have to analyze his actions too deeply?

When Tony pushed open Peter’s door, he was arrested by the sight before him. Peter was turned away from him, in the process of tugging off his shirt. The boy’s jeans were slung sinfully low on his hips, exposing the dark red silken boxers Tony had gifted his son. He watched with rapt attention, silent, as Peter exposed inch after inch of skin -- his slender waist, each knob of his curved spine, and eventually his flexed shoulders.

He had seen Peter naked dozens of times, had fucked the boy in countless positions. Yet there was something undeniably new and alluring about watching Peter undress, the boy completely unaware.

And then, Peter being the hapless, painfully unaware teen that Tony loved so much, got the collar of his shirt stuck somehow. He grunted pitifully, arms trapped in the fabric as he tried to pull it off.

“Here, let me help,” Tony said, making sure to shut the door behind him before striding forward.

“D-Dad?” Peter called in response, voice muffled by the fabric.

Tony reached out, running the back of his hand against Peter’s flat stomach. He watched as the boy’s muscles tightened in a flinch at the unexpected touch. “I got you, sweet boy,” he soothed as he grabbed onto the shirt’s hem. It was much easier to tug off, once Peter finally stopped struggling.

Peter’s face was beautifully flushed as he was finally freed from the cotton prison. “Thanks, dad,” he murmured, shyly covering up his chest with his arms.

“None of that,” Tony remanded gently, taking a firm hold of Peter’s wrists and tugging them away. The boy fought half-heartedly, at first, before letting his muscles relax. “That’s it, so good,” Tony encouraged. He didn’t miss the aborted whine Peter made.

“You’re wearing my gift,” Tony said, hooking a finger into the boxer’s waistband and snapping the elastic against Peter’s skin. “Can I see?”

“Uh, on?” Peter asked, as if Tony would rather him see them neatly folded on the bed. Perhaps realizing the idiocy of such a question, Peter ducked his head from Tony’s sight. He pulled down his jeans, unnecessarily gripping Tony’s forearms as he stepped out of the pooled fabric at his ankles. “Like this, dad?” he asked, knobby knees pressed together anxiously.

“So beautiful,” Tony murmured. The knuckle of his index finger dragged down Peter’s stomach, from his belly button to the waistband of his remaining boxers, down the boy’s crotch where Peter’s cock was already straining against the fabric.

“I like them!” Peter blurted out just as Tony’s finger skimmed the head of his cock. “They, uh, make me think of you. Even when I’m not with you.”

“You know all the right things to say, don’t you, sweetheart?” Tony asked with a smirk.

“But I mean it, dad,” Peter insisted, hips pressing ever so subtly toward Tony’s finger. “Really.”

Tony hummed in thought, letting his knuckle circle the boy’s head. He smiled as he felt the warmth of precome leaking through the material. “Always such an eager boy.” Substituting the graze of his finger with a full palming of his head had Peter gasping, clutching desperately at Tony’s arms.

“D-Dad!” he breathed, eyes scrunching shut.

“Have you been a good boy, like I asked?”

Tony had instituted a  _ no masturbating _ policy, as part of Peter’s punishment. And he hadn’t fucked the boy himself since that day, hopefully leaving the boy absolutely miserably.

“Y-Yes, dad,” Peter promised through tightly clenched teeth.

Tony’s other arm snaked around Peter’s back, pulling the boy into his embrace. He tutted disapprovingly, however, when Peter tried to rut into his grip. Instead, he maintained a gentle massaging motion. “Think your dad can make you come, just like this?”

It seemed probable, given that the poor boy was already shaking like a leaf. But Peter nodded all the same, whining as he nestled his nose into the crook of Tony’s neck. “Please.”

Tony did take pity on the boy; he made his grip a little more firm, alternated between rubbing the boy’s full balls between his fingers before dropping back down to stroke his head. And Peter obeyed beautifully, not moving save to dig his fingers into Tony’s arms or press his face more firmly into Tony’s neck.

It really wasn’t long at all before Peter’s breath caught in his throat, spine arching under Tony’s palm as his body seized. Tony grunted at the spurt of warmth in his hand as the boy spilled into his boxers.

“Good, you did so well,” Tony murmured, nosing at the boy’s curls. “So good, baby. Think you can go again?”

Tony stripped the boy of his soiled boxers, but was barely standing straight once again before his hand wrapped around the boy’s bare cock. He took advantage of the sticky come to milk another orgasm out of his boy. Tony was pleasantly surprised by Peter’s good behaviour; the boy didn’t beg, or cant his hips. He threw his arms around his dad’s neck and held him close, arms shaking, but that was it.

Tony was free to bring Peter to a second orgasm, all the while holding Peter close, stroking his back. “Look at you. What a good boy,” he praised. But he could feel Peter’s legs beginning to shake as the boy held onto his neck as if for dear life. “Wanna lay down this time, Petey?”

Peter nodded in consent, but it took a moment to unhook the boy’s arms from his neck. Tony was left, slightly bemused, as Peter stretched out on the bed without a word.

“Jesus Christ.”

Tony was struck, in that moment, by Peter’s beauty; the boy, with his creamy skin, displayed across his little twin bed for the taking. Wrapping a hand around the boy’s delicate ankle, he lifted Peter’s leg with ease, captivated by the small joint engulfed in his grip.

“What a fucking beautiful creature you are,” Tony continued. He smiled as Peter made a small noise; of complaint or satisfaction, Tony couldn’t be sure. But the boy refused to meet his gaze, head turning to the wall.

It was then that Tony made it his personal mission to eradicate any self-doubt from his son’s mind.

Lifting Peter’s foot toward his mouth had Peter’s head turning back, brows drown in confusion. “H-Hey!” he yelped, trying vainly to yank out of Tony’s grip as his toe brushed against Tony’s lip.

“Shh, sweetheart,” was all Tony had to say before Peter’s leg muscles relaxed. And the man’s lips and tongue sucking and laving at the boy’s skin was all it took to soften Peter’s bewildered frown. He kissed and licked his way across the beautiful arch of his foot, at his ankle and along his calf. By the time he reached Peter’s knee, the poor boy’s legs were shaking. He made sure to suck and lick at every drop of drying come he found splattered along both of the boy’s thighs.

Peter writhed at the first swipe of Tony’s tongue along his balls, thighs incidentally clamping shut around the man’s head. He had to pry Peter’s legs apart so he could continue up the teen’s cock.

It was easy to swallow the boy down at once; Peter’s cock barely hit the back of his throat. But Peter -- Peter was crying out, one hand fisting the blanket while the other fisted Tony’s hair. He didn’t begrudge Peter the eye-watering grip; oral sex was something they hadn’t yet explored. He knew, however, it had been on his son’s mind. He had access to Peter’s browsing history, after all; the poor kid hadn’t yet thought to use privacy mode.

A delicate “ _ Ah, ah, ah _ _ ,”  _ was all the warning he got before hot come was filling his mouth and dripping down his throat. “Oh God, dad, ‘m so sorry,” Peter babbled. But he quickly shut up as Tony moaned appreciatively, laving away any escaping dribbles with an enthusiastic tongue.

“Taste so good, son,” he said, reveling in the stunned look on Peter’s face. “You’ve been such a perfect little boy today.”

And what Tony wouldn’t give to be a teenager once again; he could still taste Peter’s come on his tongue, and yet the boy’s cock was somehow able to noticeably  _ twitch _ at those words. “Can I fuck you now, kid?”

Peter didn’t even properly answer, just drew his knees up to his chest to lewdly expose his awaiting hole. Tony hummed noncommittally, circling his son’s asshole with a feather-light fingertip. “Why don’t you get yourself ready tonight?”

The teen was unsure at first, the bottle of lube shaking in his grip as he lathered up his fingers. He kept looking between Tony and his hand, as if expecting Tony to interrupt at any time. The man only nodded encouragingly, lazily palming his cock through his dress pants as he waited for his son’s show.

The boy frowned adorably as he inserted the first finger, but Tony could see the split second change when Peter nudged against his prostate -- he fell back against the bed with a moan, one leg shooting into the air dangerously close to Tony’s head, forcing the man to quickly grab it.

“That’s it, sweetie, keep touching yourself,” Tony encouraged. His jaw clenched painfully tight watching Peter’s middle finger struggle to join the first, seeing his son’s little hole stretch around them both. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he whispered, pressing light kisses to the boy’s calf still in his grasp. “The most beautiful kid I’ve ever seen.”

“Dad, stop,” Peter whimpered. His voice cracked, and he turned his head to the side. But Tony could still see the glistening tears wetting his lashes. “Please, I’ll come.”

Tony needed no further invitation to pull on Peter’s wrist, removing the boy’s fingers to replace with his cock. At the first push inside. Peter was immediately mewling and whimpering, tears unabashedly streaming down his bright red cheeks. 

“Do you think you can hang on?” Tony asked, voice strained as he struggled not to urgently thrust into the tight warmth he had missed so much. “Can you be good for me, Pete?”

“Please,” the teen whispered in response, words slightly slurred as he refused to release his bottom lip from his teeth. “Just -- come, dad, I can't-”

“It’s okay,” Tony soothed, rubbing his nose along the boy’s damp cheek as he began to gently thrust. “Fuck, I missed this.” His grunt was matched with a snap of his hips, their skin slapping so obscenely he almost missed his son's delightful moan. “Don't worry, baby, I'm not going to last like this.”

His front rubbed back and forth along Peter's come-slick stomach, with the boy's little cock trapped in between. Tony could tell the motion was rapidly bringing Peter to the edge once more; he toyed with the idea of making Peter come, fuck the boy while he's far too over-sensitive, getting to listen to Peter crying and pleading that  _ It's too much  _ \--

But he knew he had put his son through enough for one day; instead he slipped a hand between them and grasped the base of the boy's cock, squeezing firmly.

At first Peter’s body spasmed; perhaps Tony had been too late, or the brush of his hand just enough to push Peter off the edge. But then his boy let out a low groan, and Tony knew well enough by now that Peter always fell silent in the depths of pleasure. He refused to allow his grip to falter, even as his hips, so driven to desperation, fell out of rhythm.

Finally, it was Peter’s breathily whimpered,  _ “Dad”  _ \-- Peter’s head tip back, mouth falling open, eyes struggling not to squeeze shut as tears decorated his lashes. Tony’s orgasm hit him suddenly, muscles seizing up until he was forced to collapse onto Peter’s weak frame. He missed his son’s orgasm entirely; his own face was pressed into Peter’s shoulder, and he couldn’t even bring himself to lift his head and watch. But he  _ felt _ it; the second his grip released on Peter’s cock, and he had barely even started to slide his hand upward, there was hot come pouring down his hand, warmth hitting his stomach and chest. As his strength came back to him, Peter was still panting, possibly because of Tony’s solid weight resting atop him. But when he tried to shift, Peter’s lanky arms were thrown around his back.

“C-Can we just… stay like this?” the teen murmured.

“Pete,” he soothed. “I’m not going anywhere. Just going to get more comfortable, yeah?”

He could feel Peter’s hesitation, the boy’s arms minutely tightening before finally falling away. Tony pulled out, drawing quiet hisses from them both, before settling on his side and tugging Peter into his arms.

**Author's Note:**

> [Visit me on tumblr for more of my Starker ficlets, to submit requests, and geek out with me over these dorks.](http://airebellah.tumblr.com)


End file.
